ed at
the extravagant living of the workers when wages are high; yet it is not
only very natural but very sensible of them to enjoy life when they can,
instead of laying up treasures which are of no lasting use to them, and
which in the end moth and rust (_i.e_., the bourgeoisie) get possession
of. Yet such a life is demoralising beyond all others. What Carlyle
says of the cotton spinners is true of all English industrial workers:
{117a}

"Their trade, now in plethoric prosperity, anon extenuated into
inanition and 'short time,' is of the nature of gambling; they live by
it like gamblers, now in luxurious superfluity, now in starvation.
Black, mutinous discontent devours them; simply the miserablest
feeling that can inhabit the heart of man. English commerce, with its
world-wide, convulsive fluctuations, with its immeasurable Proteus
Steam demon, makes all paths uncertain for them, all life a
bewilderment; society, steadfastness, peaceable continuance, the first
blessings of man are not theirs.--This world is for them no home, but
a dingy prison-house, of reckless unthrift, rebellion, rancour,
indignation against themselves and against all men. Is it a green,
flowery world, with azure everlasting sky stretched over it, the work
and government of a God; or a murky, simmering Tophet, of copperas
fumes, cotton fuz, gin riot, wrath and toil, created by a Demon,
governed by a Demon?"

And elsewhere: {117b}

"Injustice, infidelity to truth and fact and Nature's order, being
properly the one evil under the sun, and the feeling of injustice the
one intolerable pain under the sun, our grand question as to the
condition of these working-men would be: Is it just? And, first of
all, what belief have they themselves formed about the justice of it?
The words they promulgate are notable by way of answer; their actions
are still more notable. Revolt, sullen, revengeful humour of revolt
against the upper classes, decreasing respect for what their temporal
superiors command, decreasing faith for what their spiritual superiors
teach, is more and more the universal spirit of the lower classes.
Such spirit may be blamed, may be vindicated, but all men must
recognise it as extant there, all may know that it is mournful, that
unless altered it will be fatal."

Carlyle is perfectly right as to the facts and wrong only in censuring
the wild rage of th